Where You Go To Be Forgotten
by Cleopatra Antoinette
Summary: Movie-verse. Nuada and Nuala survive, but our favorite prince can't go free. Where do they send him? The place where they send things they can't be bothered with. And who's there to make sure his stay is comfortable? John T. Meyers, our banished agent.
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this shrotly after seeing Hellboy II. It wasn't what I was hoping it would be, and so I wrote this. It is completely movie canon up until the end. Instead of Nuala managing to get her heart, she misses it, allowing Hellboy to 'wrap up' Nuada, and letting Abe make sure Nuala was okay. Also Hellboy hasn't left BRPD. Yet. I was also irritated by the lack of John Meyers. So now you know the background of this piece. Enjoy.

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**Where You Go To Be Forgotten**

It was completely wrong

It had all gone completely wrong. That was the cold, simple state of things. He had underestimated his strength, his opponents, and most importantly, his sister.

Oh, he had always known that she would stand by her father. That she would obey the king and respect His Majesties wishes. But he never thought that she would be so adamant, that she would oppose him so strongly. Perhaps she had changed in the time that he had been gone. Or perhaps the fact that she fell in love with that… that… whatever he was- changed her. Either way, it was his downfall. She stabbed herself, so close to the heart, but missed it by a hair. Just enough that he could be crippled and then placed in enchanted iron restraints, but not enough to kill him- or her, as the case may be.

Now, here he was, Prince Nuada, warrior, sorcerer, ruler of the Fae, and he was a prisoner of the very people he tried to destroy, while his sister was lovingly cared for by the B.P.R.D., and her damned fish man.

Bitch.

For a moment he was tempted to do something that would make the magic in the iron act against him, just so that he could have the satisfaction of seeing her face twist in pain. Then he remembered that he would feel the pain too, and they would take care of her while they let him writhe.

Bitch. Damn, treacherous bitch. He should have done something to get rid of her, something, something, _something!_

And then he remembered the Night of the Gods, the many sacred dances around the fire, the sage that told him and his sister how they were lovers reborn in a strange twist of fate, and he closed his eyes and sighed.

And then the devil showed up. No pun intended.

"Hey, Princey. Guess what?" A cloud of disgusting cigar smoke blew into Nuada's bleeding face, and for the thousandth time since meeting the spawn of Satan (again, no pun intended) he cursed his highly developed sense of smell. That was another thing he hated about humans. Those revolting things they stuck in their mouths and set on fire. Didn't they know the things stunk to high heaven?

Ugh. Barbarians.

"I said guess what?" Another puff of smoke. Nuada refused to dignify the question with an answer. "Fine, I'll tell ya. We're sending you to a nice place. Great scenery, wonderful weather, real friendly people." The prince felt the demon's breath near his ear. Nuada didn't open his eyes or acknowledge his presence. "You're going to Antarctica."

And that was when Nuada's eyes shot open and then he swore because his eyes going all wide pulled at the torn skin.

.

"Manning, there will be no discussion."

"No discussion for you, maybe, but I've got plenty to discuss!"

"Tom, please, for your sake, keep your personal feelings out of this."

Tom Manning was trying to face down his friend Jake Lorenzo, a member of the government. Jake was high enough up to know a lot of things, but low enough for him to be afraid of some bad comments about his work. They were standing in Tom's office, kept completely secure by the latest technology, and kept comfortable and impressive-looking by his latest paycheck, which wasn't enough for Manning to be willing to put up with certain government sanctioned actions.

"Okay, fine. Let's put aside the fact that you're sending a psychotic fairy prince to the base where my daughter and niece are currently stationed. Instead, let's focus on the fact that there is only _one other agent there besides them_. Even if they were our best, most experienced agents, which they are not, three is not enough to make sure that the Royal Retard behaves himself. I mean, if one thing in that place goes wrong-"

Lorenzo stood up from his chair and walked towards Manning with his arms out in appeal. "Tom, for crying out loud, that place was built specifically to keep things in and guarded with the smallest amount of units possible."

"And the smallest amount of units possible was ten, Jake, ten. Not three, ten. Again, if one thing goes wrong-"

"Nothing is going to go wrong, Tom. Everything is secure, it's safe… For God's sake, we have things in there that could blow the whole goddamn world up and no one has found out yet!"

""Which is why I don't want _him_ there! If he got out-"

"Which he won't-"

"Would you stop interrupting me?"

"Fine, Tom, fine. Finish what you were saying."

Lorenzo sat down, and Manning took a deep breath and pored himself a stiff drink from the decanter he had hidden in the globe of the world. Lorenzo looked at it admiringly. "I need to get me one of those."

"The late Dr. Broom left it to me after his death." Manning drank it all in one swig. He winced and poured himself another. "God bless the man." He drank it all, poured himself another one, and then Manning joined Lorenzo in sitting in a large, plush, oversized armchair opposite of his friend. "Anyway… Where was I?"

"You were about to go into why we shouldn't put the prince in the Antarctica base," Lorenzo said helpfully.

"Oh, right. Thank you. As I was saying, not only are we under-staffed there, but also you would be putting a man… fairy… _thing _hell-bent on destroying all mankind in the midst of ancient weaponry confiscated specifically for their unusually dangerous nature. If he managed to get a hold of even one, we would have a major crisis on our hands. Not only that, but two of the three agents there are completely inexperienced."

Lorenzo sat up and pointed an accusing finger. "And whose fault is that, may I ask?"

Manning had the decency to look embarrassed as he squirmed a little in his chair. "I only did it because I wanted to make sure they were okay."

"Well, you did a good job of it, I must say. No enemy engagement, no experience on the field… I imagine all they do every day is train, train, and lemme think…train. They'd be pretty good if they actually were allowed to do anything. Not that you'd let them, of course."

Manning took the defensive stance. "Don't even pretend that you wouldn't do the same thing, Jake."

His friend shrugged. "Well, maybe I would at that. But Tom… This is what they wanted to do. I remember when Brianna was, oh, fifteen-"

"Jake, don't bring this up again…"

"-And we were at lunch and I asked her what she wanted to do as an adult-"

"You agreed never to talk about this, remember?"

"-And then she looked at you all nervous and then sat up straight and she said, she said-"

"You said you wouldn't talk about this, and I said I wouldn't joke about your Aunt Aida choking to death by swallowing checker pieces."

"-'My cousin Alison and I want to work for my dad's bureau'-"

"That's it! Batty Aunt Aida is fair game now!"

"-And you said 'No way in Heaven or Hell."

"I believe she was particularly fond of the black ones, correct?"

"Oh, come one, Tom! You know Aunt Aida was my favorite aunt before she went loopy, stop harping at it!"

"_YOU_ broke the truce, _YOU_ talked about it first, and _I_ said-"

"Nuada is going to Antartica, and that is final!"

The decanter sitting inside of the globe was treated to a spectacular array of varied and highly creative insults that spewed from the mouths of the two respectable, albeit somewhat elderly gentleman. It continued for another forty-five minutes before their wives called and ordered them both home immediately because they were late for dinner, and could they please pick up some milk and eggs on their way back?

.

Nuada was strapped tightly in iron and restraining fastenings as the helicopter he and his guards were in flew closer and closer to their destination. B.P.R.D. Secret Base Alpha.

Or, as it was fondly referred to by the troops: the Freezer.

The place the higher ups send things (or people) if they wanted to forget about them. Specifically designed for keeping highly dangerous objects of an unnatural origin under lock and key, the Freezer had no less than thirty six underground levels, with eleven thousand, six hundred and nine of the fifteen thousand storage cells being used, all in varying size and security. Normally, the lower one went, the more dangerous the items in question became.

At least in theory. There had been reports of both the past and current residents of the base hiding items of comrades in some of the empty storage rooms, including (but not limited to) entire sets of bedroom furniture, various articles of clothing, such as much needed snow boots, parkas, etc, and some went so far as to hide much needed items such as ADD medication. Honestly, there were too many rooms and not nearly enough time to go on a thorough search of the whole place. Therefore it stood to reason that there could very well be a plate of food sitting in some vault that was twelve years old if not more. Not only that, but some of the smaller, empty rooms had been 'taken over' by the inhabitants of the base that had gotten sick of paperwork and wanted to do something useful and progressive with their time. Something to take their minds off of work, and keep them entertained on the days when there was not much to do.

There were unconfirmed reports of a perfect model city of Los Angeles made entirely from origami.

It was kind of sad when you thought about it.

Of course, Prince Nuada knew none of this. All he knew was that he was going to be put into some small, cramped, most likely damp and freezing cold room where he would spend the rest of his life. If he didn't kill himself after a certain amount of time. Or go mad. Or both. Or escape, but frankly, Nuada was less than optimistic on that. If they were taking the trouble to transport him all the way to a frozen continent that was located nowhere near any of his sympathizers, and was full of security systems of legendary proportions, then there was probably no way that he could find a way to get out. Even if he did, the enchanted iron collar and armbands prevented him from harming anyone, and would allow the natural Sidh poison of the iron to seep into his system. So even if he did find a way out of his cell, all he had to do was meet one person and he was back in it. Plus, just because he couldn't attack them didn't mean they wouldn't attack him. Humans had very little moral, he found, when confronted with a threat.

In other words, he was royally screwed.

The group consisted of seven guards, all regular agents of the B.P.R.D., all armed with high powered ammo and guns that were capable of shooting at least thirty bullets at once, and Prince Nuada. They were surrounding Nuada, whose arms were firmly secured with three-inch thick iron straps, and with equally restricting bonds on his legs. They were making sure he stayed put. They were standing outside of a huge gate that they had to clear snow off of for three hours, two of which were setting up explosives to break through the ice, and the other one spent shoveling snow out of the way. Finally, after spending another fifty minutes trying to find the comm. that would allow them to get in touch with security, and then another twenty eight minutes trying to figure out how to work the damn thing.

_It is no wonder_ Nuada thought to himself _that they rely on the demon for every mission. Tactless he may be, but he, at least, would have blown up the doors and gotten inside by now._

Oh, wait, the inept fools figured it out. Damn. Now they were talking to it. The idiots! Oh, wait… that's how the devices worked…

"Security, this is team A-1, transporting criminal Zeta-"

Nuada interrupted. It was their own fault they didn't gag him when they had the chance. "I'm criminal _Zeta_. My, how ingenious."

"Look, just shut up, will ya?"

"What were the others named after, the periodic table of elements?"

The man at the voice pad turned to him. "I'm about to rename you Prince No Teeth."

"Oh, I feel so very threatened. Truly, I am terrified."

"I ain't joking here-"

"That's it, I'm talking to security." Another guard stepped up and began to establish communications with the troops based inside. "Security, this is team A-1, transporting criminal Zeta for permanent incarceration. Please open the security doors so that we can being the procedure." There was a long pause. The men started glancing at each other. The pause was supposed to be the people on security duty saying something back, like "Please hold for one minute, team A-1. The doors will be open shortly."

But there was nothing. Some slight static, and that was all. The man cleared his throat and tried again. "Security, this is team A-1, transporting criminal Zeta for permanent incarceration. Please open the security doors s that we can begin the procedure." Again, nothing. The agent started getting irritated. "Security, please respond. This is team A-1, requesting entry to Base Alpha. Please respond." Silence. Nuada was felt the cold finally start working on him.

"Is there a spare jacket?"

The man he had irritated earlier looked at him. "Thought you couldn't feel the cold."

"…In case you haven't noticed… This is Antarctica. It frequently goes below eighty degrees on a nice day. And it is windy. This damn metal is beginning to ice, and I have no desire to be stricken with, I believe you call it, 'frostbite'.

"Yeah… well… We'll be inside in a minute."

"For the last time, you retarded, flat-footed, jerks! LET US IN!!"

"…"

"Of course we'll be in. Of course."

"Shut up, Fairy Boy."

"Like that'll really get us in, Bob. Insulting security is always the best way to get inside."

"Shut up, Brian."

"Here, let me try."

"Andrew, the last time we let you near a computer, you shut down the whole system."

"Oh, gimme a break, that was three years ago! I think it's high time that I be given another chance!"

"None of the computers would work for a month! Do you realize how much stuff we had to do?"

"I was new! I was just out of training! Don't you think-"

"Hey look, I got the doors open!" The other six agents and Nuada all looked at the man who was holding two wires that he had yanked out of the comm. They were tied together, and the box with the buttons was open and, quite frankly, now most likely unusable and irreparable.

But the doors were indeed opening.

They all looked at the man and Andrew asked him "What the hell did you do?"

The man shrugged. "I bashed it a bit."

Nuada snorted. "Apparently."

"Quiet, you."

The doors were now open. Not completely open, but open enough for the all to squeeze in. They all rushed in quickly, including Nuada. The reprieve from the cold, however small it was, was at least better than having to stand in the wind.

There was a small keypad next to the door, where one typed in the password to get in. Unfortunately, just when Nuada thought the morons might let him see what it was, someone stuck a needle in his arm and he blacked out.

.

The main office of the Freezer was designed to do just that. Freeze any thoughts of theft, vandalism, and/or T. the meeting room a person might have in their head, and then letting the person slowly slink away in fear.

All the walls were metal. But it wasn't just any kind of metal. In 1973, several B.P.R.D. priests exorcised a sacred cave that had been infested with evil spirits who had been killing people. As they had been purifying the caverns, they came across a long forgotten mine, which was filled with a strange, incredibly hard metal. It was pure white, but when the light hit it, it shone with silver and blue.

Normally it was a beautiful sight, except that no light ever hit the walls in the office. The only light came from a single spot in the ceiling, which shone down on the very spot where a person was to stand when coming before the huge, black desk that normally had a very large, well muscled and altogether dangerous man sitting behind it in an equally black chair.

It was very intimidating, usually. But not today. Because today, instead of the one light being on, all the lights were on, and instead of a guy who could easily break necks sitting behind the desk, sitting on the desk was a girl wearing a light blue tank top_, very_ short shorts, a towel covering her wet hair, and she was painting her toenails.

They were a light green. She thought it would go well with her top. Not that there was really anyone to notice. Except for-

"BRIANNA!" And there he came, the lord of the manor, the man of the house, the soul male occupant of the entire base. His name was John Myers, and he didn't look happy. He was dressed in his customary suit and his arms were full with a very large stack of papers. He walked straight up to the desk from one of the invisible doors (invisible because the doors were made of the same metal as the walls) and he dumped them next to the girl.

"Brianna Marie Manning, you said that you would finish all the paperwork! I cleaned all the equipment, _and _cleaned the kitchen, _and_ the bathroom. You haven't done anything!" He glanced at her feet. "Except paint your toenails."

Brianna looked at the papers. "Oh, come on, gimme a break! I only have to do that pile and I'm done. I already did the laundry and I vacuumed yesterday."

"Yeah but these are old papers that you should have done ages ago! Look at this one," he said, pulling a random file from the stack. "It's dated 2001. Seriously, Bree."

"That was the most boring year ever. No one filed papers on that year."

"Okay, what about this one? 2005. Now you can't tell me nothing happened that year."

"I was busy."

"Uh-huh. What about…"

As John continued to pull the files out of the stack and argue with Brianna, neither of them noticed the other hidden door at the end of the hall open up for the seven guards with Nuada in tow, and they paid no attention whatsoever to the sound of boots walking across the floor. They were too busy arguing to notice.

"…1996, Bree, 1996!"

"I wasn't here in 1996, so that doesn't count!"

"You never specified what papers you would and would not do! We've cleaned up everything, and all you've been doing is-"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"

John turned around so suddenly that he knocked all the papers off the desk, and Brianna sat up so suddenly that she knocked her nail polish off the desk onto the documents on the floor. The two of them stood there, mouths gaping, and the seven guards and the groggy Nuada (who was waking up from the drugs) did the same.

After a few minutes of staring and mouth gaping, John Myers, being the only real respectable one, drew himself up, and saluted.

"Sir, Agent John T. Myers, sir! How can I help you?"

"First off, all of us are agents, so stop saluting."

"Oh, right… Why are you here again?"

Bob glanced at the others and then spoke. "We've come to drop off prisoner Zeta."

"Who?" This question came from Brianna, who was looking at Nuada like a designer who had seen shoes three seasons old.

Bob pointed at the obvious one. "The guy in the metal. Nuaba."

Nuada's grogginess immediately wore off. "Firstly, it's NUADA. Secondly, it's PRINCE Nuada to you."

John opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "Right so… why is he here?"

"We're putting him here."

"Temporarily, right?"

"No, moron, permanently."

Nuada spoke beseechingly to John and Brianna. "Please kill me."

John looked horrified. "But we can't keep him here! This is a storage base, not a prison!"

'"You were supposed to make one! You received an official notice like… three months ago!"

"Our communications broke down _four_ months ago! AND we sent H.Q. a status repot on the emergency line. No one answered!"

Bob closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them. "Who else is here?"

Brianna and John glanced nervously at each other. Brianna began "Well there's Alison."

Bob frowned. "Who's Alison?"

"JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!"

An invisible door opened and out popped a girl wearing blue jeans, a t-shirt that read 'Are You Still Here?' with short brown hair. She ran straight for John with a gameboy in her hand and she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

"John! I just got the all-time high of all time for Uber Warfare Kombat XII Extra-Gore Edition! I just saw it! I'm gonna be in the Guinness Book of World Records!"She enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. "This is the happiest day of my life!"

Unable to verbally alert her to the presence of newcomers (due to the air being pushed out of his lungs) John had to turn to patting her on the back to get her attention. Sadly, his assailant mistook this as a sign of affection and encouragement. Alison hugged him harder. The last bits of breath were wheezed into the air. "Oh, I know, it is exciting isn't it? I'm so glad you told me about that game, John! Best present ever!"

"…Ali… prisoner… Air…" John gasped.

"Oh, sorry." Alison immediately let him go. John fell against the desk, straining for oxygen. Bree caught her eye, and then pointed across the room. Alison turned and then slipped in surprise. She ended up on the floor. "What's all this?!"

The agents were getting aggravated now. "We have to put him someplace. We can't leave until we do. Where do we put him?" Andrew demanded waspishly. The girls turned to John.

John sputtered for a moment. "But there's- It's too- You can't- Why- Can't you just- Oh, forget it!" Dejectedly, John motioned for the agents to follow him. "There is a cell that's empty and should have enough security for him. What else do I need to know?"

.

The next forty five minutes were pent taking numerous elevators and stairs to their destination. The whole way, the three residents were briefed on what to do with Nuada, how to treat him, and what not to do. Apparently he didn't need to be fed. Or need water. Or attention. In fact, they could pretty much ignore him. They were advised that pretending he didn't exist was, in fact, in their best interest. Neither John, Alison, or Bree mentioned that they were all here because they were ignored.

They finally got to the room. Nuada closed his eyes as they brought him in. They unlatched his restraints, and tossed him onto the floor. He didn't move. He didn't move when he heard the guards close the massive door. He didn't move as they slowly walked away. He didn't move for a very long time after they were gone.

But he did cry. Just a few tears. But it was enough.

.

They were sitting on a couch in front of a large plasma screen T.V. that Manning had sent for the girls. John, Alison, and Bree were all completely silent, not saying anything. What was there to say? It was another day, and except for the prisoner, nothing had changed. There was a movie playing, but none of them were watching it. They were all absorbed in their own thoughts.

Alison broke the silence. "I hate being here."

Bree took a sip from her soda. "I hate it here too."

John sighed. "If I had anywhere else to go, I'd hate it myself."

There was silence again.

Bree spoke. "Who locked the door to the cell?" No one said anything. Then they all looked at each other. Then back at the T.V. "Damn," said Bree.

There was a loud, metallic crash from somewhere in the facility.

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Well, there it is, folks. I might work on a second part, but I felt that John and Nuada deserved a little star time. I added the two girls in mostly for the sake of humor, but also because I didn't want a whole bunch of rough-n-tough guys who would normally protect something like this. So instead I put in two ridiculously under-qualified women. It was fun to write them.

Please Read and Review! Flame if you must, but be kind please.


	2. Preview

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_Cleopatra Antoinette_

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_Proudly Presents_

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_The first sequel to the critically acclaimed story "Where You Go To Be Forgotten"_

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**Tales From the Freezer I: Everything In It's Place**

Everyone has their own little corner in the Freezer, both literally and figuratively. Nuada just has to find his.

Isn't it terrific how everyone is so darned helpful there?


End file.
